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His face was downcast. Michelle’s eyes were red and bloodshot. I don’t want to bother you, of course. She could tell it was new territory for him and he might lose the nerve to take them off himself, without the aid of drink. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents. Brown. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 24-09-2024 15:16:45
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